Somewhere in the Middle
by blue c 84
Summary: A collection of one shots aboard the Valley Forge
1. Chapter 1

Frustration:: The feeling of being upset or annoyed, esp. because of inability to change or achieve something

oo oo o

"Rifle up. Eyes open," a voice reminded him before the buzz.

Robert Higgins lifted his morita and pulled the trigger on the on- coming bug swarm. The rat tat tat of rounds leaving his rifle echoed between his ears as he tried the best he could to bring down as many as he could, knowing that his allies were also in the vicinity doing their jobs- killing those damn screeching warrior bugs coming for them.

Although, if he was being honest, all he wanted to do was to succeed in not hitting anyone with his friendly fire. He could feel the adrenaline pump through his veins as the bug he was aiming for toppled down. The edges of his lips lifted ever so slightly in satisfaction.

A buzzer rang through the small space. The bugs and the the troopers in his view quickly faded away- it was all hologram after all- but his grin remained. He lowered his morita, turning to face the trooper behind him controlling the simulation. "I'm getting better right, Andy?"

The girl just shrugged, lifting a finger just as his score blasted through the speakers. "Higgins. 30 seconds. Twenty enemy hits. Eight trooper hits," the cold computer voice reported.

Higgins sighed as the computer just punctured his hopes of actually doing better when in fact, he's killed more troopers now more than ever. It's a wonder how they still let him in the battlefield. The reporter trudged back towards control room, deflated. "I give up," he announced when he saw the waiting girl spinning along with her seat.

"Aw, don't give up, Higs," Ashley Anderson said as she steadied her seat to face him. "It really isn't that bad."

"Not that bad?" Bobby Higgins eyed the newest Roughneck with disbelief. Teaching him how to shoot was the punishment Rico and Zim gave her for being caught hacking SICON's systems when the CHAS went haywire in rain. However, she was just sitting there, like she did for the last four sessions, breezily playing with the chair she sat on. Like nothing was wrong with how he was shooting. "Andy, I just shot the whole squad and more," he pointed out with increasing frustration directed at himself and at her.

He saw her shrug again. "Well, technically, if we stayed behind you, you won't be able to shoot us," she argued with an amused smile.

"Of course. Bank on you to give me a logical answer," he replied under his breath.

"Bank on you to be so doomsday about things," she shot back, spinning on her chair once again.

"Are you even taking this seriously?" he finally asked.

"Of course I am," she answered.

But Higgins ignored her. "This is our fourth session and I'm not getting any better. I can get us killed out there!" he continued. "You don't even need the bugs to buy the farm. All you need is to put yourself somewhere in my field of vision and I will very likely shoot you."

"If there are no bugs, then there's no reason to shoot now is there?" she countered lightly.

"Andy!" he cried out, exasperated.

To which she mocked, "Bobby!"

"You're suppose to be teaching me how to use this thing," he reminded her, waving the rifle in the air.

"I am," she replied with a matter of fact tone that absolutely confused the reporter.

Higgins sighed again. No wonder Doc described her as a "question stuffed in mystery and wrapped in an enigma" kind of person. He was sure that to herself, she made perfect sense. Unfortunately, she didn't have the habit of explaining herself so that "normal" folk such as themselves could understand her.

"How exactly?" he demanded. "You know, at least Rico had some advise to … squeeze and... remember to breathe. You just have me running simulation after simulation."

And that's when she stopped spinning and met his gaze. "Look, Higs, it's not going to help to do the Rico way," she answered.

He felt his brain hurt as he sank deeper in that pool of confusion. "What? Why?"

"Well, what do I tell you everytime you go in?"

"Rifle up and eyes open," he replied, heatedly. "That's what everybody says. What does that have to do with anything?"

She winced. "Because you keep squeezing your eyes shut."

"Wait. What?"

"You keep squeezing your eyes shut," she repeated, running a hand through her dark hair. "Half the time you're trying to shoot at something charging for you, you shut your eyes before you pull the trigger," she said, standing and reaching for a rifle herself. "So no wonder you're missing targets and hitting folk, you can't see what you're aiming for," she continued, hitting a switch that let the screen between the simulation room and control room down. Several holograms of a charging warrior bugs appeared on the other end. "Now I can teach you how to look down the barel of the rifle, keep your stance steady, take a breath, squeeze the trigger, and breath again," she said, while demonstrating the procedure letting out a short burst that killed the holograms dead on the tracks. "But it's not going to help if the first thing you do is close your eyes," she explained.

Higgins paused to reconsider his position while he eyed the hologram of dead warriors flickering away. "So how do I keep my eyes open?" he inquired.

"You get used to the fact that bugs are trying to kill you," she stated plainly.

"And how do I do that without actually having the risk of being killed?" he challenged.

The girl furrowed her brow, confused. "Bobby," she answered pointing at the adjacent space. "_Simulation_."

The reporter paused meeting her do-you- get- it -now expression with his own, "Oh."

She sat down and started rotating her seat left to right once more. "So get back in there time for a few more," she said.

He did as he was told. By the corner of his eyes, he saw her place her hands on top of the console, flipping through screens no doubt looking for a scenario he hasn't done. "This looks fun," he heard her say through his helmet. "Ready Higs?" she called out in warning. "Remember. Rifle up-"

"Eyes open," the report finished for her just as he raised his rifled and the buzzer sounded.


	2. Chapter 2

Witnessing the Roughnecks go wild isn't something she would ever want to see again.

Dizzy Flores couldn't believe it.

Never again.

And it was her idea.

00 oo 00 ooo 0000ooo

48 hours of R&R.

Not 12 nor 24.

48 hours of R&R.

Granted, everytime they seem to have this much downtime, something inevitably pulls them back into the fray before their allotted time expires. Dizzy Flores thought about it while she showered and she figured that odds are, they only really had half of the 48 to chill out. The other 24 would be on alert for the next emergency mission or something- like Zim demanding training.

Nevertheless, 24 hours was long considering most of the time they were only given 12.

24 hours is a full day after all.

So when she came out to the locker room and found the her squad stuffing things into their respective lockers looking a bit too blah for her tastes, she thought of only one thing. She launched herself on top of the bench running down the center and announced, "Who wants to party?"

"Sleep," Doc answered.

Brutto seconded with a nod. "I kinda want to get some-"

"No!" she interrupted, walking up and down the bench. "We have 48 hours of downtime. That's enough time to sleep, eat, fiddle with a screwdriver and anything else you guys want to do."

Gossard sighed. "But Diz-"

"No. No buts, Goss," she replied sharply. "We are going to party. You know why? Because we deserve to party. Haven't we give up enough?" she asked, eying the good medic. "We've joined up. We're doing our part. We've willingly given up our lives saving our world from these bugs. And what do they give us in return?"

"Citizenship," Higgins answered quickly, earning a raised eyebrow from the trooper.

"Wrong, paperboy," the red head snapped. "What we get is 48 hours of freedom. 48 hours until we're knee deep in bugs and guts. We might've given our lives to SICON but you know what we haven't given them? What they can't take away?"

"Our... dignity?" Rico guessed.

Dizzy rolled her eyes. "Our right to party!" she corrected, placing her hands on her hips.

"Zim's not going to like this," Jenkins warned.

"Johnny outranks him," she pointed out. "We got to fight for our right to party!"

"Now, you're just quoating the Beastie Boys," Andy commented as she slammed her locker shut.

"Who?"

"The Beastie-" the girl started then sighed. "Nevermind. A band way back when."

"Whatever," Dizzy dismissed. "There's a bar aboard the Valley Forge for a reason. We're gonna go," she said, stomping her foot down in case anybody cared to object further.

Thankfully, nobody did.

So they all marched up to a small room half filled with troopers from other squads trying to find some solace in the bottom of a bottle. Dizzy Flores didn't care if nobody was behind the bar. All she had to do was glare at the younger trooper behind her and say, "Anderson, didn't you mention that you worked in a bar?"

That was enough for the girl to shrug and get behind the counter, checking various bottles and equipment before finaly asking, "What's your poison?"

Dizzy grinned.

Finally!

It's game on!

After a the second round however, Dizzy started to have doubts.

Was Jeffrey Gossard really trying to stack their mugs into a pyramid even if they had different kinds of cups? The technician swatted the medic's hand when Doc tried to pry him away from standing on his seat. "Doc, it's totally possible!" he argued.

"Gossard, I'm trying to save your face from getting uglier," the only slightly iniberated Doc replied, tugging his friend by the belt loops.

"But Dizzy wanted a party! What's more party that a fizzy champagne pyramid?" he asked.

"Dude, we don't have champagne," Anderson sanely pointed out, leaning against the counter, with a bottle of beer on her hand.

Dizzy watched Jeffrey Gossard narrow his eyes in concentration. "Anything fizzy will do! Beer fountain!" he declared.

"Goss-" Dizzy tried but was ignored.

"It's so possible! We just have to use a calculator and science," he insisted. "Where the hell is my screwdriver?"

An ill timed snicker from Max Brutto made the red head reconsider her party position even more. "Yeah, you know. Coz Gossard has some screws loose up there," the younger troopers said drawing circles in the air.

"Brutto," she reprimanded, thankful that the mechanic didn't hear a thing as he was now behind the bar, erasing the drink's list to write his computations down.

"That's my last name. Get your own," the trooper returned.

Laughter erupted from her right side where Higgins, Jenkins and Rico were sharing a table. Johnny was slapping his leg with delight while Higgins held up a card between them both and hiding it from Carl. "So what's this card?" Higgins asked.

Carl wiggled his fingers near his temples and narrowed his eyes in concentration. "Ace of Diamonds!" he answered after a few tense seconds.

"You're cheating!" Higgins said, amazed. "You can't have gotten eleven cards right."

"Dude must be psychic," Rico announced.

"You know, that's what they keep telling me," Jenkins replied tipsy yet amused, pounding a fist down on the table. "But I'm telling you, it's not that hard to guess that the bugs want to kill us. I mean- Hello, humans are awesome!"

"You know what we should have?" Higgins said, after sipping on his amber drink. "We should have a theme song! I can cut it in my FedNet pieces."

"Higgins!" Rico slapped the paperboy in the back. "That's a great idea! I nominate Eye of the Tiger!"

"But we're not Tara's Tigers. We're Rico's Roughnecks," Higgins countered. "It has to be Eye of the Roughneck."

That's when Dizzy Flores completely made up her mind. She watched in horror as Johnny Rico stood up and climbed on the table. With one fist pump, he whole heartedly sang, "It's the eye of the Roughneck, it's the cream of the fight. Rising up to the challenge of our rivals." The lieutenant jumped off the table and sort of skipped towards her. An arm went around her shoulders. "Sing it with me Diz," he said.

"Um..."

"And the last lone survivor stalks his bug in the night. And Razak's watching us all through the eyyyyyyeeeee. Of the Roughneck," he finished upon the applause of his table.

"Johnny, maybe you've had enough-"

"Anderson," Rico called out loudly lifting his empty glass and waving it around. "Hit me with another gin tonic!"

Dizzy watched in horror as the girl just nodded and filled another glass with various kinds of clear liquid. "Andy," she caught the girl's arm before she pass her by. "You're not really giving him another. He's had three-"

"He's had one," the girl corrected. "They've all just had one real drink. You, me and Doc are the only one's who've had more," she informed her, pointing at the medic who was trying to settle Gossard down.

"What?"

The trooper shrugged. "I've been a bartender since I turned 18. I know my liquor. Doc said he ate some granolas before we left the locker room and he ate more bar chips while he was drinking. And you- tolerance, I guess. The rest of them haven't had a drink since... forever and they haven't really eaten anything substantial..." she trailed off her explanation.

"Because I wanted to come here straight," Diz realized with a sigh. "So what have you been giving them?"

"This gin tonic is carbonated water with a slice of lime," she said. "Brutto's tequila is peppermint apple juicing se. And Goss," she snickered, "Goss has been taking vodka shots of iced water."

"Huh." Dizzy found herself nodding in approval. "You are sneaky."

"I've been tending bar a long time. I've actually seen worse," the girl smiled sympathetically.

"Anderson! Post haste," the lieutenant snapped.

"Coming!"

Dizzy Flores finisehd off her drink in one swoop.

Yes.

Never again.


	3. Chapter 3

"It's for you to second guess your orders, Lt. Ibanez," Commander Marlowe snarled. "It's for you to follow."

"But, sir," she started to protest, "Those troopers-"

"Ibanez, i have half the mind to revoke your flight status and have you court marshalled."

Carmen Ibanez stifled a sigh. She didn't exactly know how many times she's heard this lecture from the old man before, but she was sure by his tone of voice that he has had enough of her. Even though she knew she was right and the orders were all sorts of twisted. There was no way she was going to give the rest of her fighters SICON's orders to blow up a hot sector when she knew for a fact how many squads they've deployed in there. The Commander of the Air Wing might have given her case of insubordination to the Marlowe not knowing what to do with her himself but that just told her that even the CAW didn't know if what she did was right or wrong.

"Your team managed to singe the bottom of three fighters. Fleet resources are already spread thin. We did not need another three planes down."

"But sir, the troopers-" she tried again.

In vain.

"Ibanez, if you ever get your wings, maybe you'll learn what an acceptable loss is."

Carmen tightened her jaw wanting to speak out but knowing she really shouldn't. With the Commander's mood as it is, he would definitely revoke her flight status. She would be grounded. What help could she give then? Sometimes, just sometimes, she thought that the Gettysburg's dishonourably discharged CAW was right to strike a superior officer. Lord knows, she felt like doing it now.

If there was anything she knew she would ever add to her vocabulary, it's the term acceptable loss. There's no such thing. It's an insult- that's what it is. Nobody should ever have the power to turn a human life into a statistic. Losing a person in battle should never be acceptable. Even if they were all trained that going out there meant tempting Death himself. These are people they were talking about- they have families and friends and favourite things to do. They should never be downgraded into a chess pawn.

So they had three planes in for repairs. Big deal. They also managed to save seven out of twelve squads in the sector. It wasn't exactly a win but it was better than none.

There was time for a second fly by and they all knew it.

She could see Marlow's take a deep breath and knew, just knew, that this was it. This was going to be her sentence and she would be fine with it.

No regrets.

Suddenly, there was a someone clearing his throat behind her, shifting the Commander's angry gaze from her. "Um... Commander," a familiar voice tentatively called out, "Is this a bad time?"

Carmen narrowed her eyes at the reflection on the screens infront of her. There were two people behind her, not one- Johnny Rico and... Blue Leader?

"It's not really a good time, Lieutenant."

"Oh, we'll be quick," Rico insisted taking a step forward. "So Blue Leader and I were talking, right. And we pretty much both agree that it was a good call to wait on sector 54."

"Excuse me?" the startled commander said.

How Ibanez managed to hold an even expression was beyond her. Practice maybe? This wasn't her first rodeo in getting chewed out after all.

"Good call asking the fighters to pass through twice," the no nonsense voice of Blue Leader said. "One of my guys made a mistake. it doesn't happen often but it does happen. You saved some troopers down there."

"You have some very thankful troopers getting some rack time," Rico added. "That's all. That's all we wanted to say."

"Right. Anytime Lieutenant," Marlowe managed to say before returning his attention to her. "Ibanez!"

"Sir?"

"What the hell are you still doing here?"

When Carmen turned her back at the Commander and headed out the door, she couldn't hide her smile any longer. It was basically impossible to not grin when the door slid shut behind her and Rico came out of the adjacent door frame where he's been hiding with an equally giant grin. "So what's the damage?" he asked gamely.

"I can't believe you did that," she said.

"I totally saved your ass and this is the thanks I get," the Roughneck replied.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm thankful," she returned. "But really Rico. How did you get Blue Leader to do this?"

"Carmen, the guy is Intel. The guys from Intel can be real jerks sometimes but this time, everyone knew who did what," he informed her. "What makes you think I had to ask him to do anything? He was already on his way here. Somehow, he found out that Marlowe decided to hang you. I just convinced him to kill the Commander with sweetness."

"Sweetness, huh?"

"Sweetness," the Roughneck repeated victoriously.

"Somehow, I don't think they teach that in officer's training," the pilot said.

Rico shrugged. "Don't know. I haven't gone,"he replied. "But you know what I do know?"

"What's that?"

"We "kids"," he said, making air quotation marks, "We need to stick together."

"Is that so?"

"Yup."The young lieutenant nodded.

"So you're coming with me to mess hall?" she invited.

"Oh no. I'm not going to be seen with you for awhile," he informed her.

"You just said we need to stick together. What happened to sticking together?" she asked.

"Yeaaaaaah, about that-" Rico sort of grimaced. "The men from all seven squads you saved today- Well, they all kind of want to marry you."

Carmen's face fell. "What?"

"You're on your own there," replied the back-pedalling lieutenant. "See you on the bounce, Ibanez! Have fun!"

Carmen watched her friend rush away quicker than she thought he could. "RICO!"


	4. Chapter 4

_Nudge _/nəj/ A light touch or push  
>- oo - oo<p>

"The song is great," gushed a passing trooper, "Really hits home, you know."

"I know right? It's like Shock the Quo pulled back on the gritty rock but really still really punched it. It's not even on any album. It's totally new," his friend replied equally jazzed.

"You know what we should do? We should learn the song. Did you see how the girls were all kind of misty eyed?" said the third.

Sergeant Zim frowned as he headed for the Valley Forge's bar. By the time he got there, he knew it would be closed- that's where these troopers were coming from after all. But a closed bar was exactly what he needed to fill a different kind of quiet his office can't seem to provide. Because every time he turned on the new SICON approved music on his radio, he heard that song.

The song everyone has been talking about for two weeks straight.

The song that everyone had been enamoured with.

It was ridiculous.

It was just another song by a rock band going acoustic. It was a neat trick. A plan that worked everytime. When a usually rough sounding band suddenly goes unplugged, it's always seems like such a great shock. If only people realized that it's been done over and over again by almost every band in existence.

"But sarge, don't you hear it?" Private Flores told him a few days ago when he very nicely asked to shut off the radio system. "It's about a guy and girl who just keep missing each other by seconds. And he's just saying that if he had his way, he'll be there when she gets there," she explained. "It so sweet," she added.

Zim remembered just staring at the girl like she was a bug while he turned the damn speaker off. He never thought Flores was that type of a girl until that moment.

But it didn't matter. He might've turned the transmission to the Roughneck's racks off, but the whole ship was still abuzz about the same song.

For two weeks.

A closed bar, he knew, is going to solve everything.

He paused at the door, hearing the piano playing inside but the sign firmly said it was closed. He punched in the code he got from the officer who runs the bar anyway and let himself in. The place was closed alright- Chairs are on the table, the floor was moped clean and the glasses were all clean and shiny with only Captain Chekov behind the bar, wiping the last traces of tonight's excess.

Zim made a beeline for the bar not minding the fact that the piano was still playing on the second landing.

"The usual?" Chekov asked him, already readying a tumbler with ice.

"Yep," he sighed, taking a seat on a bar stool listening to the faint voice singing with the piano.

_Coz I know you see what I see_

_The darkness passing through me_

_The specks of light and satellites surround. _

_And my heart screams to the cosmos_

_To find the beat it needs most_

_Clover tags, strings don't ask, _

_I swear, I'll see you on the other side_

The sergeant grimaced. It was that damned song again. Granted, it sounded a bit different but still. He swore the song was haunting him. "Who's playing?" he demanded.

"You don't know?" the captain raised a brow at him. "She's one of yours, sergeant."

"One of mine?"

"Yes sir. Anderson," Chekov informed him as he wiped the other counters down. "She's been helping me close this place down in return to playing that run down piano after hours."

Sergeant Zim rolled his eyes. He normally didn't care much what the trooper did on her downtime as long as she does what's required of her. But tonight was an exception. "Private Anderson!" he yelled.

The piano stopped playing, and a familiar trooper innocently leaned on the railings of the second landing, looking straight at him. "Sergeant Zim," she returned smirking.

"Front and center," he ordered. Oh, he saw the trooper roll her eyes as she pushed herself off the railings and hurried down. "The other Roughnecks are in bed. Where you should be," he informed her.

The girl shot him a confused expression. "You never had a problem with me scheduling my own time in the simulators when the rest of the squad is asleep. I don't see a problem here," she defended then paused and added, "Sir."

"The bar's closed, Anderson," he snapped.

"Yeah. And yet, you're here too, sarge," she shot back slowly. "... You alright? You don't usually set yourself up for that kind of answer."

Zim grumbled glaring at the kid who just went around behind the bar to fix herself a drink, suddenly remembering that her file said she did bartend and play in some punk band. He sighed deciding to just unload. He knew this one would keep quiet. And she does already know about him and the Sky Marshall anyway, though she hasn't revealed exactly how. "It's that damned song, Anderson."

"Which song? SICON just approved the release of forty to the fleet," she answered.

The sergeant just stared at her. "You know full well which one, kid. The one everyone won't shut about."

The girl smiled. "Slipstream by Shock the Quo," she replied easily. "What's wrong with it? It's a great acoustic song."

"It's everywhere," he complained.

"So was Plaster last month, and The Singularity Force, the month before," she said. "You didn't seem to have a problem with those songs." Then she leaned on the bar and wagged her eyebrows, grinning. "It's making you miss her, huh, old man," she teased, barely whispering. "Sarge, be a man. Stop pining, get out of the bar, and just call Redwing. It's not that hard to do."

Zim narrowed his eyes at the young trooper. Did this girl always have to shoot to kill? "Shutter it, Anderson."

"Come on, sir. And all good songs make you feel something. " she replied, "You're human. It's fine. Everyone has someone they miss."

The sergeant raised his gaze curiously. "You sound like you're talking from experience, ape," he noted.

"I miss my friends, sarge," she said. "It's not like I blend in around here."

"But you said, and I repeat- Everyone has someone," Zim pointed out. "Who's you're specific someone?"

He watched her shake her head, amused, taking the dogtags hanging from her neck. He must be getting old because upon further inspection, Anderson had three dogtags and not the customary two. The first two had her name on it, of course. But the last tag had different name with a different set of insignias.

A familiar boy's name- Michael Turner, the hotshot pilot that was formerly the head of the Gettysburg fighter squadrons and was dishonourably discharged for punching the XO. Gambit was his call sign. According to Flores, that was also the same name of the band's lead singer. The dogtags were taken just as Zim raised his gaze to the Roughneck in surprise.

"You've been listening to him," Anderson confirmed, slipping the tags back over her head and tucking them in her shirt then taking a drink. "So sarge, are you ready?"

Zim gripped his glass a bit tighter, sighed and tipped back the rest of his drink. "I got it in my crosshairs," he replied as coolly as possible, placing his empty glass on the counter.

"Then get to it, boss," The trooper challenged, taking the glass and automatically placed it in the sink.

The sergeant grimaced, taking his time to slide off the stool. "You must have been a hell of a bartender, kid," he said, chucking a few coins on the table. She gave him a mock salute, placing the coins into the register like she's been working there all along. Charles Zim nodded, steeled his nerves and walked towards the door.

Humming.


	5. Chapter 5

"Hey Chief," a trooper greeted when the metal door slid open.

Douglas Peters flipped his welding mask up and exchanged a high five with the approaching soldier. "Hey Gossard," he said. "You keeping the peace again?"

The trooper nodded. "We got the L.T. volunteering us to do the rounds while everyone's in stasis. It was an easy sell," he replied.

The Deck Chief eyed the trooper curiously. "You people passed up _rest?_"

"We passed up _stasis_," Gossard corrected."I don't know about the rest of them, but for me, it's like a coffin. I'll sleep on my bunk, thanks," he said, eying the wires sticking out of the marauder.

"Yeah, well, I'm just saying we gearheads down here would be thankful for some time off," Peters said. "But no. Marauders are down. The jets need fixing. The tubes need adjusting or one of you troopers would blow up on a drop..."

"I know. I know," Gossard sighed. "We Roughnecks don't complain, Doug"

"Doesn't mean the other squads don't. And don't get me going about the fleet officers," the Chief snorted. "Now correct me if I'm wrong- aren't you supposed to be going around on these rounds, Jeff?"

The trooper shrugged. "Everyone's on stasis. The only pilots around are either with Marlowe or flying the air patrol... Who's there to regulate?" he pointed out. "Rico's not exactly strict with the posts. As long as everything gets done... Figured I can be a gearhead for the night. Of course, that is, if you let me-"

"Get up on the cockpit," the Chief instructed quickly before the trooper changes his mind. He watched the man grin before grabbing a few tools from his station and climbing up the marauder.

Douglas wasn't about to refuse help, especially not from someone like Jeff Gossard. They went to the same school after all. He was only Gossard's senior in university by a year but even then he knew that the guy didn't just study engineering. He actually had the talent for fixing things- an asset that's kept the Roughnecks alive on several occasions.

In fact, the Chief always found it odd that Gossard ended up to be a gun hand not a gear head.

As expected, it only took moments for Jeff to stick his head back out the cockpit looking absolutely mystified. "Who's marauder is this?" he asked.

"Tigers," the Chief replied.

"Huh. It looks like it's been mauled by one," Gossard shot back. "Amazing that they got back in one piece. They were one wire short of blasting this thing to smithereens."

Douglas cocked his head to one side. "Smithereens? That a technical term?"

"You know what I mean," came the dry reply before disappearing back into the cockpit.

Chief Peters chuckled before returning his attention back on the panel he was welding. Yes, he knew what he meant. Of course he did. He had the same reaction.

"Screw the hex on its place. Right top, left down, left top, right down. Make the gears all one face. Oil the plates so they go round," he heard one of the nearby specialists recite as she reassembled a part- a rhyme that originated from another Roughneck that came down on occasion.

Which reminded him- "Hey Jeff," he called out. "Where's the new kid?"

"Who? Andy? Cleaning the moritas," Gossard answered. "Why?"

"It's nothing. Last time she was here, she kinda said something about her friends promising to send her the new Electrostatic Hearts album... Care packages was yesterday and..." he shrugged.

"OH! My bad." The trooper pulled out a small card from his pocket and reaching down to hand it to him. "You audiophiles need to stick together."

"I'm surprised she knows the band at all. What was she when Electrostatic Hearts came out- fourteen?" Doug replied putting the card carefully into his pocket.

"You do know that the only song I know from that band is the song they have that was released to the fleet the other week," Jeff said before ducking back inside the marauder.

The Chief of the Deck rolled his eyes but smiled. Everyone has their favourite squads. His were the Roughnecks. Actually, if he had to take a poll amongst the gearheads, he was sure that the vast majority of them prefer Alpha squad. And it wasn't because a few of them came down from time to time to help. It helped, but it wasn't the reason.

Most of them found that the Roughnecks generally didn't have an ego.

Or at least, had remarkably less of it compared to other squads and fleet officers.

The members of Alpha squad went around being as amicable to everyone. They didn't boss people around even if their record was better than most. They didn't brag as much as the others even if they had the right to. They actually listen to what people like them had to say about how abused their machines come back and about life in general in this boat, as evidenced by the album he now has in his pocket.

Most squad leaders would come in demanding their gear be fixed first- The last time Rico came down, he said " You know, when you get around to it. As long as it's fixed by the next deployment, we're good."

The first time Chief Peters heard that from Rico, he was sure he had imagined things.

There was a loud ramming sound that caught his attention away from the marauder repair. Peters looked around at the noisy bay. Nothing looked out of the norm- his people were going around busy- but something didn't sit well. The noise that he heard wasn't anything he had ever heard inside the repair bay...

"You heard it too?" Gossard asked, sticking his head out of the cockpit with a frown. "This is not good." His frown deepened as he got out of the cockpit and headed straight for the door quicker than the chief thought was necessary.

He trailed behind the trooper curiously. "What's going on? Bugs?"

"No. Worse," the trooper answered, morita already at the ready when the door slid open. "There's a reason why we patrol even if there are no bugs."

As soon as he saw the corridor, Chief Peters knew something was terribly wrong. Max Brutto was shoved a fleet officer away. Behind him was one of mechanics, on the floor, looking absolutely shell shocked and trying to keep her partially unzipped suit closed with her clasped hands.

"Maria?" Peters called out watching the girl's eyes very slowly move to focus on him. But she didn't say a word.

"Ha! You're in trouble, trooper. See the pins?" the fleet pilot spat out pointing at the insignia on his shoulder. "I'm a Major. I outrank you, you idiot. Striking a superior officer- that gets you court marshalled."

"Brutto?" Gossard eyed his squadmate for clarification lowering his morita very slowly.

"The lady said no," the younger trooper growled. "And all the Major I see is a Major pain in the ass."

"Sir?" The corporal prompted.

"Never laid hands on her. Your boy saw wrong, Corporal," the officer replied.

Chief Douglas saw his friend take a small glance back at him and his mechanic before he said, "I'm not so sure about that Major-"

"Whatever," the officer interrupted. "If you report this, it's your word against mine," he said coolly. "I'm going to my bunk."

"Gossard," Brutto pretty much hissed in protest as the Major started down the corridor. "He can't get away with this."

"He's not. Write the incident report," Gossard instructed. "And let's get this gearhead checked out at sickbay."

"You troopers are wasting your time," the man sang as he went down the hall.

"Maria, I'm taking you to the doctor," the Chief finally said, going down in one knee. But when he touched the girl's shoulder, she flinched and scampered a few feet away. He looked up at the two troopers, both eyeing the officer with disdain.

"You know, it's officers like you that make the fleet look bad," a voice said at the other end. "You're under arrest, sir. Until Marlowe knows what to do with you."

The Chief saw the young lieutenant Rico walk forward with another Roughneck beside him.

"You don't have anything lieutenant. And you're not totally impartial because this is your squad," the officer said.

"Yeah, but you're forgetting something about my squad," Rico replied breezily. "We have Higgins."

The trooper to his right raised his hand and on his hand was a small camera. "And I have the assault on tape...before I got Rico."

Chief Peters knew where he was but for some reason, things started to play in slow motion. He saw the officer shake his head, then suddenly moved to attack a terrified looking Private Higgins. Rico pushed the younger trooper away from his attacker. Brutto and Gossard both started running forward, presumably to stop the fleet officer from doing anymore damage.

And then he heard a shot fired from behind.

Chief Peters saw the Major fall before he looked behind to see two more Roughnecks standing at the opposite end of the corridor.

"Andy!" Rico barked out in disbelief.

"Holy... Nice shot Anderson!" Brutto nudged the officer's arm with his foot.

"I really thought he was going to rip my head off..." Higgins said weakly.

"Andy, we're going to have a talk about the definition of TRIGGER HAPPY...," Gossard commented wryly.

"Andy," Rico prompted, "Seriously?"

The girl shrugged. "It's Flores' idea." She pointed to the red head already walking forward. "And I thought it was legit. We heard you from ways away. The guy's flying high on something. "

Rico gaped- an expression the chief rarely sees on an officer. "Andy, he might have a few screws loose but when is it ever 'legit' to shoot a _person_?"

"_Johnny._ The guy just assaulted this poor girl, threatened dishonourably discharge Brutto, and was about to attack _you_," Dizzy Flores reminded. "He's lucky Anderson had half the mind to set her rifle to shoot tranquillisers. This might not be the best way to handle things but it was by far the fastest. And as you can see, it's _handled._"

"Someone shoot me," Lieutenant Rico sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Fine, I get your point. Not like we can do anything now anyway," he acquiesced. "Higgins, give the tape to Brutto. Brutto, send in the tape with your incident report and file formal charges. Goss, you and I are bringing this guy to the infirmary then when he wakes up, take him to the brig. Diz and Andy, take the girl to a medic," he instructed. "Sounds good? Because we all might just buy the farm on this."

Doug heard a round of agreement as the squad sprang into action. "Have I ever told you my squad is crazy?" Gossard told him proudly before he went to help Rico out with the Major.

_More than once_, Chief Peters thought as he trailed the two girls accompanying his mechanic.

It's why the Roughnecks were his favourite squad


	6. Chapter 6

"I miss Carl," Ashley Anderson said out of the blue, as she placed her tray down on the table and took her seat on the bench.

Jeffrey Gossard's eyes grew wide. Did he hear right? He turned every so slightly to look at Doc just to make sure he didn't imagine things and by the expression the medic was giving him, he was sure he wasn't the only one who heard the confession. In fact, the whole table fell silent, suddenly watching one of the squad's least touchy feely members glumly push her mystery meat around her plate.

"Of course! Makes sense that the freak and the nerd would have... a... thing," Max Brutto very awkwardly teased.

"Careful Brutto, she can always shoot you," Doc gamely warned.

Gossard sighed when Andy shot the boy an eye roll but he wasn't fooled. Brutto meant to pry not to offend.

"Andy, Carl left for that new Psy Ops program just last "night"... " Higgins trailed off meeting the mechanic's gaze.

The girl sighed. "I know, Higs."

"And you know- there are other people here," Goss finished for him. "I mean, there are other men in this squad," he continued lightly, "Except for Brutto. He's just a boy."

He saw Brutto look his way. "Hey! I'm right here."

Andy raised her gaze from the mystery meat with a wide eyed expression. "It's not like that. Definitely not like that. Carl's my buddy. Like the rest of you people are my buddies," she defensively replied. "Except for Brutto," she quickly added when she obviously realized what was going on.

"Still here!" Brutto said.

"So what's up, _bud?_" Gossard asked.

The girl shifted in her seat with a frown. "Rico and Dizzy keep fighting," she stated plainly. "Carl usually fixes that for us. He usually has it done in less than two or so hours so we wouldn't notice that they're fighting. If Carl were here, this would be fixed already. But he's not here. So the fighting continues."

Gossard saw everyone give her a confused look. Usually, he more or less understood what she was talking about but he has to admit, this was something new to him. He didn't notice any fighting this morning in the squad room. Rico said he was going to have a meeting with fleet and Dizzy said to say hi to Ibanez if he sees her. So the L.T. Had a meeting with fleet- that was a fight?

"Um... Andy," Doc said, "Did you wake up in the right squad room? Nobody was fighting this morning."

"They were. I heard them," she insisted, sounding almost like a child. "They've been fighting since Carl left."

"Andy, I'm sorry I didn't notice anything either. Maybe you're just anxious because Jenkins isn't around. It's totally normal to feel-" Higgins tried to reason.

There was a frustrated sigh. "You guys don't hear it but they fight all the time," she replied. " All. The. Time. They might actually shoot each other this time because Carl isn't here to stop them. The trinity is broken. The balance is shot."

"Anderson, you're the only one who thinks they're fighting," Brutto pointed out. "You might be some kind of crazy smart but even you can't know it all. You're overreacting. You're wrong about this one."

"I'm not wrong, Max," the girl answered defiantly. "I know what fighting looks like. They're fighting. This time it's about Ibanez. The last time it was about that sergeant from Victor squad. The one before that was about that newbie in ops. The one before that was-"

"Okay, Andy. I don't remember them fighting about any of those people," Gossard cautiously interrupted her. "How are you so sure about this?"

"Because." She reluctantly bit her lip, moving more things around on her plate. "My parents used to fight all the time. My parents fought all the way until dad died," she admitted quietly. "I know what fighting looks like. They're fighting. And Carl made it better. So I miss Carl even more," she repeated firmly.

For the second time that morning, Gossard felt their group pause.

"This is their chance to figure things out by themselves then." he told her gently. "They'll work it out, Andy."

"You sure, Goss? Because this isn't a big ship. And there's no hiding from them when we go down to face bugs. And they'll both be armed then. And we'll be within firing range. And -" she started ranting in record speed.

"They've been friends since forever," he reasoned. "Diz and Rico will be fine."

"My parents were highschool sweethearts," she replied.

"They're not your parents," Goss pointed out.

"They fight exactly the same way. They non- fight." She fidgeted ever so slightly. "It did not end well. Not at all. It ended the opposite of awesome. For everyone."

Gossard pressed his lips together not knowing exactly what to do with the visibly anxious trooper seated across him. She looked mildly concerned but he was sure there was more under the surface because she wasn't the type to share personal anecdotes nor be straightforward. The fact that she did both is a sign of extreme distress.

This was her calling for help.

It's enough to make him very worried.

And by the looks of the others, they felt the same.

"We have to talk to Rico and Diz. If this non- fighting fighting is making Andy relive bad memories, which it obviously is, we're going to be in deep trouble. Squad is down two bodies as it is," Doc calmly whispered to him.

He nodded ever so slightly in agreement. Even if they weren't friends, even if the unit wasn't this close, even if he didn't give a damn about other people, this needed to be fixed. They never had anyone assigned to replace T'Phai nor did they think they had to. (The Colonel was irreplaceable after all.) But now that Jenkins is gone, they were going to need to work more in the field. Which means that this isn't the time for Andy to start missing.

"Anderson, it doesn't matter. They fight. They break up. They don't break up. How they're suppose to break up when they're not even technically suppose to be together anyway is kinda nuts. But it doesn't matter," Brutto said in his usual brash tone. "You know why it doesn't matter? Because we're not their kids."

"Not the point-"

"No it's exactly my point," the younger kid replied. "We're not their kids. And we're not kids. I'm not saying that if they have a falling out, it won't affect anything. But they're non relationship relationship is their problem. Whether they work it out or not doesn't mean that, we, _the rest of the squad_," he said, drawing circles in the air with his finger, "will stop looking out for each other. And if they want to drag us all into their scuffle and make us choose sides, then we can just shoot them for being stupid in the first place. There's a reason why this isn't allowed, you know."

Gossard blinked.

Well, that was unexpected.

"Huh. That's actually... sweet," Higgins commented.

"Sweet is for pansies!" Brutto huffed, shoving food into his mouth. "I'm just telling the truth."

"See Andy? Brutto might not be the most eloquent but he's right. He's even willing to get himself dishonourably discharged for a double murder just to prove his point." Goss gave the girl a big smile. "We'll be okay. It's going to be fine."

Andy gave him a small tentative nod of gratitude before calling out to Brutto. "Thanks, _jock_."

Brutto rolled his eyes. "You're welcome, _nerd_."

Jeffrey Gossard took a deep breath as things started to slowly go back to normal in the table. He can tell Andy wasn't exactly convinced but she wasn't as tense as she was earlier either. Which is a good thing.

Crisis semi- averted.

Maybe.

For now.


	7. Chapter 7

"That was suppose to be routine!"

Max Brutto saw a helmet flying across the locker room. He rolled his eyes as he unlocked his own locker. It wasn't the best day- that was true. They were told to accompany a crew to repair one of the stations that used to be over run by bugs. Intel said the sector was clean.

And it was- until three quarters of the way in when the bugs showed up.

But Intel being spotty wasn't exactly news. It wasn't like they promised the whole rock was clean either. Bugs were to be expected- they were deployed for a reason.

"And you!" Flores marched down the aisle heading straight for the trooper quietly stowing away her stuff beside him. "Anderson, you froze. What was that about?!"

"Diz," the warning came from Doc. "Just let her be."

"Yeah Flores. We all have off days," Gossard agreed with the medic.

Brutto saw the girl continue to fix her things like she didn't hear anything. She actually probably didn't since that white cord hanging from her ears meant that she had already headphones on to block everything out. That wasn't exactly new either- though it is new that she now had a pair inside her locker.

"Look, I know that you guys have a soft spot for the new girl but it's live or die down there. If she can't get her act together then she shouldn't have done the drop," Dizzy Flores argued. "Hey! Are you listening to me?" she demanded as she pulled the headphones off the other girl's head from behind.

Max watched that the corner of Andy's mouth twitch for a second before she spun around and faced the more aggressive trooper. Warning bells rang in his mind when all she did give Flores a calm stare.

He knew that look.

That was the look he saw her give his old buddy Keller after she "tripped", throwing her cup of slushy directly at the guy roughing up a kid in her math study group. "Oh no! Clumsy me. I'm so sorry. You better get that cleaned up before it stains your varsity jacket," she deadpanned standing in between her friend and the bully. Max was just passing through the corridor to his next class, but he remembered that defiant stare.

Everybody keeps forgetting that Andy was in his highschool for a year. She was a year older and they didn't exactly have classes together but he saw the very discreet way she dealt with bullies. She played the clumsy geek card to her advantage. He's seen her once play a terrific game of pick up basketball in the park so when his buddy came out of gym class with a broken nose because of a bad pass from Andy, Max knew it wasn't a bad pass- especially since his buddy was the same guy who tipped her lunch tray out of her hands only a few hours before. Of course, nobody in school could ever believe that Andy can actually play ball because she was a science nerd and coach didn't play her based on that reputation, not that she wanted to play with a bunch of jocks either. It didn't help that people rarely saw her after school hours. His favourite was how she "accidentally" lit his teammate on fire because the guy was being a jerk to her chem partner. Then there's all these stories of the pranking she did in Sierra squad because the majority there wanted her dead for no good reason- not that any of them could be traced back to her.

Anderson is a nerd but she wasn't the kind that backed down and was smart enough not to get caught. Only people, like Diz, seemed to forget it because Andy largely had a really chill albeit quirky personality.

"What? Are you freezing up again? Are you only good in the simulators?" Flores taunted.

"Umm... Dizzy, maybe you're going too far," Higgins said tentatively.

"Diz, seriously, back off," Goss repeated. "We all had a bad day. Just hit the showers."

"You're not Paperboy, Andy. What's the use of you down there if you're just going to choke?" Dizzy continued.

Brutto slammed his locker shut. "You're going to have to stop now, Flores," he warned, seeing as Andy hasn't made one move away from her silent stance. "And give the headphones back."

Flores gave him a look of disbelief. "Come on, Brutto. Not you too. You-"

Brutto rolled his eyes again, snatching the headphones from the redhead's hand and giving it back to the quiet girl beside him who was also currently giving him a confused expression. "Whatever you thought of doing- don't," he said. "I told you the other day I got this."

He saw her slip the headphones back on with one hand while she gave his shoulder a pat with the other as she started walking away. "Jock."

"Nerd," he replied automatically keeping his sights on redhead.

"I don't believe this! Did I board the _crazy_ ship? She almost got us killed and you all let her walk away without anything?!" Flores exclaimed. "Brutto, you're old man would've dragged her up—"

"Don't you start with my dad, Flores," Brutto found himself sneering. "Because pops would've been the first to tell you that this is a bad idea."

"Well, yeah. Little Miss Ashley Anderson gets away with almost ending the squad is always a bad idea," Diz shot back dryly.

"Paperboy almost ends the squad all the time. Do we go after him after every drop?" he replied in the same manner.

"That's actually..." came the small voice of Higgins from the side. "... true..."

"In the first place, this thing with Andy is your fault," he continued, taking a step forward poking a finger at her shoulder. "If you and Rico could just have your pissing contest out of everyone's comms- I mean, who in the galaxy could shoot straight with you and the L.T. arguing in their heads! Even I wanted to shoot you down there and I'm not the one who came from a broken family," he said plainly seeing Dizzy set her jaw while she turned red partly in anger and embarrassment. "So break up or get back together or whatever the hell you and Rico do. Just figure it out before you both bury _the rest of us_ six feet under."

Suddenly, Zim's voice boomed down the aisle, "What is going on here, troopers?"

"Nothing, Sarge," Brutto answered, taking a step away from the older trooper but letting his glare linger for one more second more than it has to.

"Private Flores?" Zim demanded.

"It's nothing, Sarge," he heard the girl answer back.

"Good," he barked. "Hit the showers. Get some food. Hit the sack. And shake today off. Tomorrow's a new day," Zim ordered.

Brutto begrudgingly grabbed his gear and did exactly that- hoping tomorrow is, indeed, a new day.


End file.
